


Side A

by shield_maiden



Series: Mixtape [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 22:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7731808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shield_maiden/pseuds/shield_maiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thin magnetic strip holds so much more than he ever thought it could, it amazes him every time. Not just songs, no, it’s more than that. It’s emotions, happiness, loneliness, fear. All there, and all for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Side A

It’s pathetic.

The little plastic rectangle that sits in his palm and fills Jonathan Byers with shame. Nancy deserves something so much more as a gift, but money is tight right now in the Byers house, with Jonathan putting all he had towards patching the wall and the re-wallpapering. And anything left over from that had gone into Will’s Christmas gift weeks ago.

It’s pathetic, and she deserves more, but right now it’s all he has to give. 

The thin magnetic strip holds so much more than he ever thought it could, it amazes him every time. Not just songs, no, it’s more than that. It’s emotions, happiness, loneliness, fear. All there, and all for her.

He knows deep down that Steve had played some part in replacing his camera, but the act itself has Nancy Wheeler written all over it in her neat, thoughtful cursive. And after all, it had been only the two of them at the foot of the stairs, her handing him the gift and him playing the bumbling fool as she smiled shyly. So he really doesn’t feel too bad at all for not giving a gift to Steve.

It’s three days after Christmas, and he’s spent most of them worrying obsessively over the tracks on the little tape, ordering and reordering the list on paper. He needs this to be good, no, better than good. Jonathan needs this to be perfect. So he sits hunched over at his desk, his fingers flying over the record and stop buttons on his cassette player. 

Stop. 

Record. 

Stop. 

Record.

Stop.

It feels like he’s sat there for an eternity, but it’s finished and he’s reasonably happy with it. Even the cover came out nicely although his hand has cramped from trying to make his boyish chicken scratch handwriting legible. Finally he slides it into the case and clicks it shut. 

They’re out of gas money, so even if he wanted to take the car to the Wheeler’s house he can’t. But it’s not actively snowing, and the walk would give him time to think about what to say. He shrugs his coat on over his grey sweater and loops a scarf haphazardly around his neck and shoves the tape into his coat pocket with gloved fingers.

Outside it’s cold, but the sun is shining weakly from behind some clouds, so he sets off in the direction of the Wheeler’s house, three streets over and in the decidedly better part of town, the tape like a lead weight in his pocket.

What if she hates it? The thought he’d been fighting to keep at bay surges into his mind, like the memories of the giant screeching faceless monster in his living room, like the terror of loosing Nancy in the forest, of loosing Will. Compared to those, this thought sounds like the most trivial thing Jonathan has ever heard. But still, what if she hates it? What if she hates all the songs, or doesn’t get it. What if it’s just another thing she labels as ‘pretentious bullshit by Jonathan Byers’.

He thinks of turning around. Of going home and recording over it and throwing away the sleeve. Of tucking his poorly obscured feelings back inside his mind and keeping them to himself. But it’s much too late for that, he realises as the Wheeler’s two story house looms in front of him, the front garden covered in a crunchy layer of snow. But the path to the front door has been shovelled clear, probably by Mr. Wheeler on his way to work that morning. He could leave the tape in the mail box, or by the front door and ring the bell, he thinks. But he sees one of the upstairs curtains twitch, and he knows he’s been seen, that there’s no way around this likely mortifying experience as he trudges up the front path and peels off his gloves before he rings the doorbell.

He’s barely touched it and he hears feet on the carpeted stairs inside and then the knob turning and the door swinging inward to reveal Nancy, a genuine smile on her face. 

“I saw you.” She says. “From the window.”

He can’t help the teasing grin. “Who’s the pervert now, huh?”

“Shut up, Byers. Now are you going to stand outside all day?”

He follows her inside, hoping he’s not tracking half melted snow all over Mrs Wheeler’s linoleum floor as he comes to stand in the kitchen awkwardly.

“If you’re looking for Will, he’s not here.” Nancy says as she fills a glass with left over eggnog from the refrigerator, and shakes the carton in his direction in question. His mother had always told him it was rude to refuse food or drink as someones guest so he nods and watches her pour another glass for him before he speaks.

“Uh, no. No. I was looking for you actually.” He admits sheepishly as he takes the glass of eggnog in one hand and reaches into his pocket for the tape with the other and gives it to her, trying to look nonchalant as she begins reading the sleeve. “I have a present for you. It’s not much, but you did get me the camera, which is really great by the way. And I just wanted to give you something t—” 

He’s cut off mid sentence by Nancy throwing her arms around his neck like he’s given her the most precious thing in the world, he has to set his eggnog down to avoid spilling it but then his arms wrap around her. She thanks him softly, her lips right by his ear and he blushes, insisting that it’s nothing.

“No, it’s not nothing.” She insists as she presses another kiss to his cheek, and it lands just on the corner of his mouth. “It’s wonderful.”

In that moment, Jonathan Byers never wants to let Nancy Wheeler go.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I may continue this as a series of one shots, so if that's a thing you want to see please let me know!


End file.
